| The champagne started to kick in somewhere around 3 a.m. between the Velvet Revolver cover of Guns N’ Roses’ classic Patience and
Led Zeppelin’s epic anthem
Rock & Roll. The second
level VIP suite of venerable Sundance nightlife
haunt Harry O’s is an industry cauldron of
sweat, blood, cheers, and jeers. Nightly during
The Sundance Film Festival, independent film
notables and hopefuls congregate here like
predators and prey at an oasis in the Kalahari
Dessert. Producers with cachet, billionaires
restless after waiting in line, actors promoting
films (and themselves) and press mix with |
bleary-eyed film junkies movie-stoned from 12
hours of back-to-back screenings. This is sensory
overload. This is Sundance after dark. And this
is as good a place as any to jump headlong into
the world’s premiere independent film festival.
THE GONZO! MOMENT
Nightlife venues are to Sundance what the
Great Pyramids were to ancient Egypt – temples
of celestial access. Getting in confers heavenly
status, and each industry deity is followed by
an entourage of hipster pharaohs claiming
divine right to be beyond the velvet rope of
VIP afterlife. Tonight, locals Mark Ein and
Christopher Tavlarides have secured a slice
of VIP heaven for an entourage of 50 fellow
Washingtonians. It wasn’t easy. Whether selling
a film or securing a table, nothing at Sundance
comes without negotiation. |
The stage below explodes in a cataclysm of
sound. Velvet Revolver (minus lead singer Scott
Weiland) is in the middle of an inspired set. Paris
Hilton slinks backstage like a bleached blonde
shade. Later, she’ll be photographed lip-locked
with Jared Leto. The image will disseminate
globally with such avidity that teenage girls in
obscure Baltic states will be using it as a mobile
screensaver before Paris even wakes up. The
only things that stay behind closed doors during
Sundance are film rights negotiations and skiers
relaxing at home after a long day on the powdery
slopes. Snowboarders still go out. |
Special Feature
